Photo by Maria Newsom
In this complicated tribute to my late great Uncle Harry, a machinist who wrote short stories on the side, I speculate on what the act of writing may have meant to him, and explore what it means to me as well. Read The Box in The Basement, my first publication in the all woman-run intersectional feminist arts and culture publication Quail Bell Magazine.
Photo by Maria Newsom
School crossing guards are the unsung heroes of the morning commute. When my own local crossing guard retired, I wanted to acknowledge her twenty-two years of service on the same congested corner, and to thank her for safely shepherding countless children—including mine—across the same scary intersection, day after day, year after year. Read beloved Ms. Joanne’s story below in You Gotta Move It!, my first piece published in West Midwood News
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I’m not writing much these days, and that’s sorta fine by me. Find out why here, in my first piece published in The Shadow, a Medium publication.
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Read about when my mom got arrested here.
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Has anything ever happened to you, so expertly timed, that it made you doubt it was mere coincidence? This past summer I had such an eerily aligned experience. I found a postcard from my twenty-five-year-old self—a greeting that I’d written and addressed to my friend in Paris, sandwiched here instead, within a box of blank postcards. No postage, never mailed. Reading it now, 29 years later, I felt inspired to articulate the emotions sparked by that 4”x 6” card. I am honored to now present Return to Sender: What an Unsent Postcard Taught Me about Addiction, my first piece published in Beautiful Hangover.
Honestly, I had no plan to take another stab at short form humor—this one just wrote itself overnight! And now I'm tickled (and a little scared) to share You Name Him You Claim Him: Any Man Can Be Yours! my second story in The Haven, a Medium publication. Please note: hyperbole (EXAGGERATION) is a defining feature of satire. You’ll find maybe one or two inspirational grains of truth here, waving in a wheat field of fiction:) I hope it gives you a chuckle anyway!
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Last spring, I took a stab at short form humor: How to Win the Battle of Words with Your Teen. Satire is not my bag, neither is the soldier story genre, but the chance to hone a new skill (plus the lure of cash and prizes) led to this lampoon, inspired by some struggles to connect with my teen. (Glad to say we enjoy more truces than active combat these days:) I didn't win Medium's Slackjaw Challenge, but I'm thrilled the story still found a very good home in The Haven. I hope it gives you a laugh.
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It was Christmas Eve, 2013, and I was scooping poop from a litter box in my neighbors’ basement. Leticia and Dana had rescued a feral kitten whose new habitat extended from the hot water heater to the washer/dryer. Although it was icy outdoors and toasty within, this foster feline wasn’t buying into her rehabilitation. But I was. I was three months sober. That’s how my piece for the now dismantled Fix starts. If you’re curious to read how I got through that holiday season newly separated from my husband while also recommitting to my recovery from alcohol, you can read the rest here.
